


Tracks of Memories

by SummySwan



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Ex-Model, M/M, Mikleo with long hair, Modern AU, Soulmarks, Soulmates, Volunteer Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 01:09:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12783636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummySwan/pseuds/SummySwan
Summary: “Are-Are you a fairy in my dream?” The other looked cautious, but mostly perplexed by an unknown man appearing in his dreams.“Yes, a fairy would greet you clad in boxers only.” Mikleo deadpanned.





	Tracks of Memories

It was the rarest form of a mark, red swirling and slicing into flesh around a pinky finger as a means of a forever promise, fate intertwined for eternity. The red was as deep as the bond would be, and only when the hands were intertwined would you see how the marks fit together as simply as puzzle pieces. Red was the prophecy color, the brightness always wished to be the mark that appeared on their skin. It was always said, spoken about in giggles and dreamy sighs, that whoever got those marks was with their desired partner until their lives ended. Never separated and being apart was lonely and full of wishes to meet again as well, the girls squealed and the boys blushed brightly from how romantic it was.

But they were mere children and their innocence prevailed as soft as their pale skin, eyes shining at simplistic items such as a sugary cereal. Society portrayed romance as the ultimate happiness, what you were meant to grasp as a deep and perfect love. The marks were something a majority of the world got, some ignoring it with an eye roll while others crippled down to the floor in broken sobs, wishing for such a simple mark, no matter how small or bleak. They were either despised or pulled into the depths of someone's heart, soulmates having become a frisky subject. Some believed that they were just birthmarks, others proving how color changed when something happened to the significant other was a true sign.

Ah, but who was to say that it wasn't all a huge coincidence? Mikleo used to be starry-eyed like the others, back when his hair was butchered short and his hands were minuscule. But his brain had developed and learned the slap of reality, hair now cascading down to his bum and eyes dull. A year ago, he hadn't been such a depressed millennial like most of his age group was. Sure, he still didn't usually smile, but before there was a pop to his step, nails cut and kept clean, even some lip gloss to look snazzy. But the gleam in his eyes had vanished, eye bags and messy hair buns trickling their way into an every day schedule.

An overworked college student might have the excuse for lack of sleep and greasy hair, but an ex-model sure as hell didn't. Although he had quit his job due to being severely underweight and how awful the Managment was, among other reasons, he still had a good portion of leftover money to lean on thanks to his years of barely eating and hours spent on clothing choices. Currently, he was curled into cotton bedsheets, bedsheets ensuring him as he stood up. His eyes drifted to the time, alarm clock gently ticking. It was 6:33pm, and well known person had a party starting in two hours.

The routine was the usual one, simple and mindless things. He got a brief shower and shaved, blowdried his hair to luscious curls, pulling out jeans that grabbed at a little of his ass and a loose top, making him appear feminine but still quite attractive to most genders. The black jeans grabbed at his thighs, making him look better off than he was, while a light green and quite loose top which didn't show off his ribs, they were blatantly unattractive. Modeling had given him bad habits, but he knew lack of food was for a different reason. Closing his eyes made a deep and light green flow from his memories into his heart, and his eyes regrettably opened. 

He dragged through his apartment's living room, eyes lingering on leather gloves, frown deepening as he pulled them over his pale hands. Red spiked over his pinky, but he froze and peeled up his left glove after spotting something. Squinting his eyes, he noticed how the end was frazzled, black smeared onto the faded end. It could just be a color change, he frowned as he tried to convince himself. He had heard that color changes happened if one was sick or if something had happened it could also be the case if they had fallen in love with someone else-

He was going to have fun and hopefully get a good fuck, whether his mark was deciding to go haywire or not.

Sliding on a pair of dazzling green jeweled boots and snapping in also grass colored earrings in, he snatched his apartment key along with his IPhone and walked out the door. 

 

The party was in a giant club, the base vibrating even outside. He, of course, walked right up to the guard and was let in without even having to say his name. While he had quit his modeling career, he was still dubiously well known. He had been quite popular before he quit, magazines still coming and asking for interviews and photos, which were all declined or not even given a chance.

Lights blared everywhere as he walked in, Mikleo cringing at the loud music that played. Eyes glancing around languidly, he discovered a bar with nice looking seating and some fancy wines on display, and started to saunter over excitedly. Although, deciding to take a shortcut by walking through a crowd of dancing drunk fools should have been something he would know to avoid. A random hand reached out and slapped his ass, and thanks to a sticky spot on the floor, and he was falling forward.

But a hand on his waist sturdied him, someone snatching him just in time from behind. He breathed a sigh of relief and straightened up, dusting off the ruffles in his shirt before turning around. But before he could speak, his face was suddenly quite dark red. The view was the gorgeous stranger who had caught him, eyes batting much too innocently for someone who had probably been grinding up eagerly against ass moments ago. Sparking green eyes greeted his blessed sight, brown locks of puffy hair flooding around honey-kissed skin, a warm smile present. The other had been drinking, which was clear when he giggled and how flushed his cheeks were.

"You okay?" The other screamed over the music, looking mildly concerned after a round of snorts intertwined with laughter.

Nodding his head, he bashfully ducked his head down and his eyes stared at the sticky, alcohol drenched floor. But the other's right hand reached away from his waist, and it was then he saw the same red scribbles that dabbled on his own hand, his head snapping back up in shock. There was so much to say, so much to do, and he was absolutely frozen in shock. Should he even say something, did the other believe in markings? Was the other even interested in men? The leather gloves on his own slim fingers felt oh so tight, and before he could say anything, they were interrupted. A red-head had grabbed the man's hand, leading him away in mere moments while the other shot Mikleo a quick apologetic smile before turning back around.

"Fuck." He muttered to himself, mind whirring with tons of ideas and actions before another wandering hand found its way near his ass.

He had slapped it away roughly, biting his lip while his eyes watered slightly. That woman had *clearly* been close with him, a little too close. He made his way to the bar and was ordering whiskey immediately, deciding not to think about it for the night. After his beer was slid to him, he took a big gulp, then sat down and crossed his legs. A cute looking guy in his early twenties sat down a few minutes later and shot him a bashful smile, which he returned with a wink. The other had an adorable reaction, fidgeting and blushing. He did have a sexual reputation of heavenly level orgasms to keep, did he not?

 

It had been a few months, probably around three or four, now after seeing his soulmate, Mikleo still having not found a job. He couldn't keep replying on his funds, and he grumbled and muttered curses as he pulled on sweatpants that *still* were too big. They hung off his hips alluringly, and he was trying not to get hit on repeatedly today, so the midnight pale skin poking out didn't help. But most would probably find the way his bones still stuck out ugly, and he tugged them up squeamishly as he threw on a dark purple hoodie over bare skin. The red string on his left hand's pinky finger had darkened on the ends of his knuckle, the tips of his finger still beaming bright.

He had googled it, but found only weird comments about a sense of foreboding danger going to occur. People really overdid it on the scare meter, because he knew some idiots might actually believe that. It wasn't like he had any friends to ask about what to do, and if the other didn't believe in marks, was it worth trying to find him? In this generation, people rebelled away from "fate" and instead chose to smack tattoos over the symbols, and there was an increasing amount of dramatic assholes who declared the marks fake.

What was wrong with wanting someone to love? A small part society that was continuously growing deemed it disgusting to love and depend on another human being for just a coincidently matching mark.

Footsteps clattered and shuffled on the sidewalks, Mikleo having his usual leather gloves on. It had become colder, Christmas time approaching and more and more single people moaning about touchy couples. He had turned on the News earlier that morning to see a celebrity couple slapping each other, along with someone mooning the camera that was filming it only moments after it had started to record. He wondered how much he had rolled his eyes over the entirety of the situation, especially the social media accounts deciding to throw up their opinions to the wolves.

His own social media consisted of a Twitter and an Instagram account, both holding a few selfies and modeling photos. There was mostly sexual comments, and plenty of trollers spinning around any selfie he posted to try and insult some aspect of it. The recent one he posted had a mint green beanie toppled over his bed-head hair, white strands oddly poking out while he posed with a sheepish grin and a Starbucks latte in hand, red lines mostly hidden with well placed gloves. There was the occasional slur usage of the word fag, and some people ranting about how that word shouldn't be used as an insult, blah blah blah.

He was just tired of the arguing.

Glancing around the street he was strolling down, he saw gorgeous women laughing, gasping for breath, over one of their supposed friends groaning while clutching her phone, face beet red. People avoided looking at the loud group, some turning around and whispering to the person next to them, glancing at the skimpily dressed women then muttering something crude. In Mikleo’s thoughts, he enjoyed how they wore all the same brand of crop-tops, but that was subjective and not worth complimenting them for, nor was drawing attention to him something he desired.

Tugging at the sleeves over his bland hoodie, biting air making him squirm deeper into his clothing, his nose was sucking in goo from a small cold. He always took in other people’s faces, their natural ways of acting, as it was pleasurably calm when he wasn’t having cameras shoved into his face along with reporters screaming questions. Smiles, whether filled with admiration or a cunning smirk, were something he became accustomed to. Now no one tended to bother him, but he was still quite well known if he wore a fashionable enough outfit, whether his reputation was as an adorable feminine model that was featured consistently or as an...ex-model now.

A flustered voice caught his eye, a sleazy man towering over a female, who, from stiff body language, seemed like she was ready to reach up a foot and smack him. Perhaps he would have ignored such a cliche situation, except he got a glimpse of red-hair. Sighing, and mustering up a meek smile, he sauntered up, cursing himself for doing it even though he could walk away.

“Rose! There you are.” He spoke, making up a name, smiling as gently as he could while he grabbed her arm.

Avoiding eye contact from the other man, he snatched the female away with an arm ensnaring her waist, both keeping up a quick stride as they stride away. 

“Thanks, I was abouta pepper spray the fucker,” The red-head muttered, “And the cops would *not* have let it go again.”

“No problem.” Mikleo tried his best to give a reassuring smile while trying to hide a suspicious side glance at the mention of repeated issues with pepper spray.

“Why’d ya help me anyways?” Her southern accent was more present after she spoke again, “And how’d you know my name?” 

“Your name is actually Rose?” He blinked owlishly, avoiding the first question by switching his attention to the second one, “I just made up a name on the spot.”

“Wait...I feel like I’ve seen ya before...You aren’t a stalker, are you?” She looked quite disturbed, squinting her eyes as she shuffled a foot away from him, arms crossing defensively.

“I’m gay, so no thanks.” He bluntly spoke, her gasping afterwords, clearly excited, with a small blush flashing on her cheeks.

“I have this really good friend of mine I could set ya up with! He’s completely gay it’s adorable, his name is So-“ She started, Mikleo already being done with this conversation before it started.

“I’m fine,” He brushed off her comment, “I need to go.” 

And with that, Mikleo stalked off, ignoring a dramatically, clearly meant to be heard, sigh from behind him. She hadn’t been disgusted, but trying to set him up with a friend of hers was something he didn’t desire. But he couldn’t exactly say that he had been utterly entranced by the man who had probably wrapped a muscular arm around Rose’s waist protectively against anyone who looked her way, a sexy brunette with a charming smile. Most people weren’t down for poly regardless, but asking about her boyfriend was definitely a no-go.

—

A gentle but frosty wind was what caused Mikleo to startle, hopping upwards as an array of plants were shuffled around in his wake. The white-haired man was bewildered to see a grassy domain with roses planted arbitrarily, grass filling most of the area while some dirt patches were still visible. As the situation dawned on him, he looked down to see that all he was clothed in were his boxers, skimpy body portrayed clearly. Stretch marks on his back were mostly hidden by white hair whisked downwards.

“I wore this to bed...” Mikleo babbled out-loud, “Perhaps this is a dream, then? Although the detailing is extraordinarily vivid, and my dreams normally don’t have this amount of sensory level...”

“Uh, hey.” A voice a few feet to the side of him stunned him for a moment, eyes widening while his neck practically snapped to where he heard an audible sound.

But of course, the sexy, supposed soulmate of his was in his sight after months of longing, Sponge-bob Squarepants boxers snugly fitted on sharp hips along with a tank top that looked like it had multiple sweat stains directly under the armpits. The other’s previously well styled hair was flattened entirely on the right side, while the other side sprung out wildly. And man looked like he had been sleeping off exhaustion, because he had dark bags under his eyes, although a gentle but intrigued smile was shown regardless. 

“Hello.” He greeted formally, eyes casting downwards, frail hands shifting behind his back to hide his mark, right hand clasping over his left hand’s fingers, strings vividly red wrapped around them.

“...Are you like, a fairy in my dream?” The other looked cautious, but mostly perplexed by a random stranger appearing in his dreams.

“Yes, a fairy would greet you clad in boxers only.” Mikleo deadpanned, the other cheekily smiling in response, a nervous giggle following, “Besides, this is my dream, it’s impossible for it to be yours.”

“Eh? Maybe we’re having the same dream then.” The other owlishly blinked, the realization that people sometimes claimed to have the same dreamscape with their soulmate coming into focus for Mikleo.

“I...suppose that could happen.” Mikleo sighed, hair curling around his chin, having been left without a hair tie, as he always let it flow naturally during sleeping hours. 

“You’re really skinny.” The man observed while tilting his head as he looked downwards at his own body, face showing a modest amount of embarrassment at his own clothing, “Uh, Sooooooo, how’s your day been?” 

“Decent.” Mikleo supplied while plopping down onto grass, right hand still clasped over his left hand while he placed his hands on his thighs, “How about you?”

“I was volunteering at the orphanage all day, so fell asleep the moment I got home.” The man squashed a flower as he sat down to the left of Mikleo, dark circles under his eyes more prominent, “They’re really energetic, especially when I take them out to a park.”

“How noble.” Mikleo snorted, a devious smirk growing on his face, “Do you also volunteer at retirement homes and animal shelters?”

“Well...” The other chuckled nervously, finger coming up to scratch his cheek, eyes glancing away.

“Oh my god, seriously?” Mikleo couldn’t help a giggle slip out, right hand coming up to cover his mouth subconsciously while his left hand slid between his thighs, “I can’t deal with children, they’re too rude.”

“They say that similar people don’t get along~.” The brunette teased, Mikleo giving him an annoyed side glance along with a pout.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” Mikleo grumbled.

“Oh!” The soulmate gasped, hands gesturing towards Mikleo as a sudden thought coming into focus, gazing towards Mikleo, “What’s your name?”

“Mikleo.” The ex-model shyly glanced away, being stared at moderately embarrassing, “H-How about you...?”

“I’m Sorey!” The man grinned, eyes closing for a brief moment while a dimple on his sun-kissed cheeks appeared, and even though he looked like a total mess, he was still adorable regardless of dirtied clothing in Mikleo’s eyes.

Mikleo was totally and utterly screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> I MAY write more for this lovely pairing, but I am quite a slow writer so I’m not sure!
> 
> Im absolutely delighted to be able to have written for this gorgeously drawn anime/game, so please feel free tell me what you think about my style along with the plot so far! Constructive criticism is completely welcome as well!
> 
> Thank you for checking out my story!<3


End file.
